


A Long Drive

by BlueOatmeal



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8059825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueOatmeal/pseuds/BlueOatmeal
Summary: After a tiring day, Mirage is ready to get back to base for some rest, but the road home is a long one. Huffer didn't sign up for this. Get some headlights, Mirage.





	

“Autobots, roll out!” Optimus Prime’s order had been given about an hour ago, after a long battle with the Decepticons over an important research facility. The Decepticons had lost, and retreated after destroying part of the building. Grapple and Brawn stayed to help fix it, while the other Autobots made their way home.

Unfortunately, while there were plans to build Autobot bunkers in different locations, none had yet been completed. Home was, therefore, still the Ark, which was a rather long drive away from where they’d just been in the southeastern United States. Their usual mode of transportation in such situations was busy on a different continent. Skyfire was assisting Beachcomber and Perceptor with some geological studies in the Sahara Desert.

Mirage sighed as they passed into the next state, and slightly increased his speed. Despite being a racecar, he’d already fallen to the back of their little convoy. He’d been the first Autobot at the research facility, and he’d used up a lot of energy spying on the Decepticons with his cloaking ability. The information he’d gathered had helped considerably, but the events of the day had left him feeling rather drained.

He looked around for a way to keep his mind occupied—and awake—for the remaining hours they had to drive. His optic sensors zoomed in on the bumper stickers on the truck to the left of the Autobot he’d been following. Hm. A democrat, interested in hunting, motorcycles, and zombies. Not particularly interesting. License plate? Out of state, but not very far from their current location. Cargo? It appeared to be a stack of lumber. Boring. Mirage turned his attention elsewhere.

He watched the traffic behind him and picked out a sports car far behind him that was passing vehicles left and right. A few of the cars ahead of it swerved uncertainly as the aggressive driver made their way closer. Mirage stayed in his lane, watching carefully. If this driver continued, they could very likely have an accident, or cause one among the cars they passed. They were a few cars behind Mirage when a loud horn blasted, causing a couple cars to swerve in alarm before straightening out. The aggressive driver had tried to speed around a large truck, but the truck driver had been on to them and honked as they tried to pass. The sports car slowed to a more normal pace, seemingly cowed. Whether that would last long was uncertain. The car had reminded Mirage of the twins, and he doubted they’d let the rules hold them back for long before breaking away again.

He turned his attention forward, noting signs for construction ahead. The road was getting a bit rougher, and he had to hold himself higher to avoid scraping against the more uneven sections of asphalt. A road-hugging racecar was not the ideal alt-mode for long-distance travel. He focused on getting through the construction zone, and once the road smoothed out, he found himself bored again.

Up above him, clouds drifted slowly across the evening sky. Mirage watched the wisps of moisture morph into different shapes, combining and separating randomly. The air was cool and clear. The sun had begun to set and was slowly turning the sky a bright shade of orange, which went well with the mellow blue already present, in Mirage’s opinion.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by an insistent voice. “—irage, hey! Are you even listening?” Mirage looked to his left to find Huffer keeping pace alongside him.

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t, but I am now. What was it you were saying?” How had he been so distracted that he didn’t notice him approach?

Huffer made an irritated noise. “I was _asking_ if you were _okay._ ”

Mirage regarded him, baffled. “Of course I am. Why on Earth would you think I wasn’t?”

“Why on--!? You fell behind everyone else and when I _found_ you, you were _drifting_ across lanes! _And_ you apparently didn’t see me approach at _all_. I wasn’t even _trying_ to be sneaky!”

“Ah.” Mirage made sure he was driving straight. _Had_ he been drifting? He wasn’t sure. Huffer was correct; there were no other Autobots in sight. When had he lost them? Unable to answer either question, Mirage came to a rational, if unsettling, conclusion. “Well, perhaps my energy levels have dropped to the point where my usual attention is a bit… lacking.”

“ _I’ll_ say. But you can’t go dozing off in the middle of the highway. You’ll crash, or someone else will crash into you, and with _your_ frame, you’ve got a small chance at getting out in one piece. You might even crash into me, and then we’d _both_ be totaled!”

“There’s no need to be morbid; I see your point. But we’ve got many hours left to travel yet and there isn’t any energon to be had. I’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Mn.” Huffer was unable to counter Mirage’s logic, so the two of them drove in silence for a few minutes. Tall trees sped past them on either side of the road. He finally cleared his vocalizer—an unnecessary nonverbal noise picked up from their human allies—and spoke. “We could talk, if it would help you stay focused.” For humans, talking while driving was more likely to be a distraction, but driving came naturally to Cybertronians with automobile alts. It was more of a concern to keep Mirage awake and aware.

“Huh?” Mirage had begun to lose focus again, once Huffer had stopped talking. He had begun to drift to the right, but hadn’t quite begun to cross the line between lanes. He steered into a more centered position in his lane. “Oh. Yes, I believe that would help.” _Thank you_ , he thought, but didn’t say. “Ah, well, what should we…?”

“Uh,” Now that they’d agreed to talk, Huffer wasn’t sure what to talk about. People tended to tune him out when he talked about Cybertron, and he _wanted_ Mirage to pay attention, so… “Maybe something about Earth? Or, whatever?” Whatever, of course, being the preferred topic.

“Huh.” Mirage thought about it. “Well. Hum. How about… What’s your favorite thing about Earth?” Either he’d somehow not heard of Huffer’s reputation for hating the planet they currently resided on, or he was too out of it to remember.

Huffer made a disdainful sound. Favorite thing. As if he could find anything favorable about this mudball. “ _Alright,_ ” he said reluctantly. He’d have to think of _something,_ if only to move the conversation forward. “Well, anything that reminds me of Cybertron is… good…” When it didn’t make him more homesick, that is. “Some of the cities are alright, if you focus on the metal buildings and the industrial smell. And the smoother stretches of road, you know, like where it’s been newly paved, or worn down flat but hasn’t broken up yet…”

“Mm,” agreed Mirage. “I know what you mean. Quite unlike that construction zone we passed a while ago.” He’d caught on to Huffer’s preference for Cybertron, but was curious about something. “Is there anything unique to Earth that you appreciate?”

Huffer sighed. Of _course_ he couldn’t have left it at that. He was about to answer that _no_ , Earth had no positive qualities at all and that he’d miss _nothing_ about it when they returned to Cybertron, but he hesitated. It almost felt like a betrayal to admit it, but, “Sunrises here are… tolerable. The way the colors brighten and change isn’t _completely_ awful, when the light isn’t blinding my sensors. It’s interesting when the sun appears larger and redder than it should be. But besides that, nothing.”

Mirage was slightly surprised by Huffer’s response. “I see! I’m rather partial to sunsets, myself.” He took a moment to appreciate the sunset in the sky just behind them, and one could get the sense that he was smiling. “They usually indicate an imminent drop in temperature, which I appreciate. Why do you like sunrises rather than sunsets?”

Huffer contemplated the question. The answer came easily enough. Sunrises meant the start of a day, and hope that by the end, he’d be closer to getting back home. Their _real_ home. Perhaps even the hope that he’d _end_ the day _on_ _Cybertron_. Sunsets meant that he’d spent yet another day on this worthless hunk of rock, and served to remind him that he was wasting his time here. If every day ended here on Earth, someday his entire _life_ might end on Earth. He _hated_ that thought. He didn’t want to die here. “No particular reason,” he said.

Mirage made an acknowledging noise. He tried to come up with another question quickly. The conversation really was helping him to focus, and he didn’t want it to fall into a lull. “Oh, I’ve got one. If you had to share a room with one Decepticon of your choice, who would it be?”

“That’s an odd question. I’m going to have to think about that.” Huffer didn’t want their talk to die out either though, so he voiced his thoughts to fill the silence. “It’s not like I know every Decepticon… Definitely not Starscream, have you _heard_ his voice? Not the triplechangers. Not the… no, not the Constructicons. I was thinking for a second that just _one_ of them might be a _tolerable_ roommate, but they’re probably a package deal. Probably invite all the others in whether you liked it or not. I don’t know… Soundwave’s the same problem with all those cassetticons. _Ugh_ … Thundercracker? Maybe? I’ve heard he’s a jerk, but he’s less chatty than Starscream or that other one, Skywarp. Yeah, Thundercracker I guess. What about you?”

“Megatron,” Mirage answered without hesitation. “So I could kill him.”

Huffer laughed loudly before stifling the sound. “Sorry. That’s a good answer, just—the way you said it caught me off guard.”

Mirage chuckled. “No, it’s alright. I meant it as a joke. I could be cloaked, and he wouldn’t even know he was sharing a room until too late. And then… I guess we’d have whoever leads next to worry about.” It didn’t seem quite as funny now as it had a minute ago. Besides, he’d never actually do it. He had _morals._

“Mm-hm. I hadn’t been thinking about it the same way you were,” Huffer explained. He felt silly for actually considering rooming with a Decepticon, but that had been the question, and the way he’d interpreted it was legitimate. “Who _would_ lead next, do you think? Seems like two out of three ‘Cons want to be leader, the way they fight about it.”

“I don’t know.” Mirage thought it over. “Soundwave isn’t nearly charismatic enough for it, though he’d make an excellent advisor to a puppet leader. So, that _might_ happen. Starscream—you wouldn’t guess it, but he’s a lot smarter than he seems. He’s not perfect either, but if you’ve heard what I have about his plans, the ones Megatron shuts down… He isn’t to be underestimated, especially if Megatron is eliminated.”

“What about the Constructicons?” Huffer interjected.

“Ehh. Any authority they gather would fall apart as soon as they combine. Devastator isn’t leader material, and he can’t strategize for nuts. Maybe they could lead in the short run, but not for any protracted length of time.”

“And… Shockwave?”

“Oh.” Mirage had almost forgotten about him. “Well, he’s capable… He could probably take a lot of the other ‘Cons off guard because all he’s doing now is whatever Megatron says, but if Megatron were to give him orders to complete in the event of his death… _Hmm_.”

“What? What is it?”

“He might… actually be a problem. He doesn’t have much in the way of morals, but he _does_ have Megatron’s trust. Many Decepticons would follow him for that. Others would argue that he’s been out of action since the war moved here, but that’s not entirely true… Who knows if he’d even listen to a dead leader. I mean, _probably_ , but he might have his own agendas. We don’t usually see him in a true command position, and if he focused his intelligence on war and strategy rather than his experiments… To be honest, I’m more disturbed because I hadn’t considered him before now. Everyone else I’d at least thought of as a contender for leadership. But Shockwave? I really don’t know.”

“Huh.” Huffer wasn’t sure what else to say. “I guess… The enemy we know is better than the enemy we don’t know.”

“Well sure,” Mirage agreed, “actually that reminds me of some human expression, but I can’t remember how it goes exactly. But this was all _assuming_ that Megatron died, so it’s a bit moot.”

“Do you expect him to? I mean at the rate this war’s going, we’ll _all_ rust away before it’s over, but before that?”

“All I know is that if anyone other than Megatron wins the war, Megatron will be dead.”

“What--?”

“No, no, that didn’t sound right. Listen. What I mean is, if we win, either Megatron’s been killed already or somebody will kill him soon. Maybe an Autobot, maybe a Decepticon, but _somebody_ will kill him. If a Decepticon other than Megatron wins, it’ll be because Megatron is dead. Or incapacitated, and soon-to-be-dead.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s probably about right.”

The two of them drove in silence for a while. They’d passed through a few more states, and the sky had darkened to a dull violet. The temperature had indeed cooled, and vehicles had begun to turn on their headlights.

Mirage hummed softly. “Thank you. This has helped.” He hadn’t dozed off since they’d started talking, even though he still felt low on power.

“Mneh,” Huffer dismissed him. “Couldn’t have you starting a pileup.”

“Right.” Mirage sounded amused. “Say, how far do we still—SMELTING _PIT_ — _!”_ he swore. “Are you _serious!?”_

Huffer swerved a bit, starting at the sudden increase in volume. “Watch it! Else _I’ll_ be the one starting a pileup! What’s wrong!?”

“We’re only halfway there! I didn’t think—I wasn’t paying attention to—I thought we’d—I do _not_ have enough fuel for this!”

“You _what?”_

“I was tired and kind of dreading this long trek home so I was ignoring my global positioning system—“

_“What!?”_

“Not _entirely_ , just enough that I didn’t have to be aware of every passing mile and every _single_ mile left to go. I made sure I was where I needed to be at any given time, I just wasn’t looking ahead.”

“Okay? So?” Was he just frustrated that they weren’t as close to home as he’d thought? Huffer lived with that every day; surely he didn’t have to startle him like that!

“Huffer, I seriously do not have enough fuel to last the whole trip. I can drive for a couple more hours at best before I’ll be running on fumes, and that won’t be nearly enough to get home. I must have misjudged my fuel levels when we started back. Or I just forgot, because I was so tired.”

Mirage sighed. “Sparks, what do I do now?” he muttered.

“Ah.” He _had_ said something about fuel before, hadn’t he? He wanted to chastise him for not checking his levels or paying attention to the distance, but he seemed distraught enough already. “Of course Hoist isn’t around when you need him.” Indeed, the towtruck was back at base, and much too far away to offer his assistance.

Mirage responded with an unhappy noise. His frame sank lower to the ground.

They drove in tense silence as the sky darkened further.

After a while, Mirage sighed again. “It would be incredibly embarrassing, but do you think if I contacted Optimus, he’d stop and I could… Ride in his trailer?”

Huffer’s side mirrors turned back and forth in a sort of shrug. “Sure, probably. Everyone else is way ahead of us though. You were already lagging pretty far back when I joined you. And you _know_ he’s going to want an explanation,” Huffer warned him.

“Oh, I’m prepared to give one. I wouldn’t suggest something so mortifying if I wasn’t so desperate.”

Mirage sighed, then steeled himself. “Alright.” He opened a communications channel to Optimus Prime. After a brief pause, Huffer heard him speak.

“Hello Optimus. Yes, he did.”

“I’m fine, I’m not injured, but I, ah, misjudged my fuel levels when we started, and I don’t have enough for the whole—“

“I know, I do, and I’m sorry; believe me, it won’t happen again. Just—you know what an energy drain my cloaking tech can be.”

“Understood sir.”

“Well… That’s why I called you. If you can help think of some other option, that’d be great too, but what I was thinking was, if you get off the highway and stop somewhere, we can catch up and I could, uh, ride in your trailer the rest of the way.”

“I am, truly. I wouldn’t suggest this unless I thought it was necessary.”

“Thank you sir. I appreciate it. We’ll be ready to receive your coordinates.” He broke the connection.

“Well?” asked Huffer.

“He agreed. He’ll wait for us where he stops.”

Huffer made an acknowledging noise. After less than ten minutes, they both received Optimus Prime’s coordinates.

 _“Three hours away?”_ Mirage moaned. “We’re _that_ far behind?”

“You know, _this_ is why we travel in a convoy.” Huffer retorted. “And you really ought to put on your headlights. It’s night now.”

“I don’t have any,” Mirage grumbled. “Racecar alt. Track is always lit.”

“ _Seriously?_ What about brake lights? Turn signals?”

“No and no. Just—shush. I’m not discussing this right now.”

“ _Mirage_ , that’s not even _legal!_ You can’t drive without any lights!”

“Huffer, I’d love to chat about human laws and impractical alt-modes over some energon sometime, but I am _not_ in the mood right now.”

 _“Fine!_ Have fun careening to a fiery _death_ when you hit a pothole you can’t _see_ and fly off into a _ditch_ ,” Huffer spat. He revved his engine and passed in front of Mirage.

Mirage started, thinking he was going to leave him behind, when he realized Huffer was still staying close. What was he—guiding him? Or did he just feel obligated to stay with him?

 _Stupid racecar,_ Huffer thought. _Shouldn’t be driving at night._ He’d just have to watch out for both of them, and warn Mirage of any problems ahead. At least most of the traffic signs were lit. He’d feel silly if he had to read them all to Mirage.

The sky had lost all illumination, save for the patches of stars outlined by dull clouds. The moon was nowhere to be seen. The night was filled with the sounds of automobiles rushing to all their various destinations. The sound of Mirage’s high-pitched engine stood out, while Huffer’s low thrumming engine blended right into the highway ambience.

They drove for some time, Huffer signaling when they had to merge lanes and Mirage following as close as he could without the risk of hitting him by accident. Occasionally Huffer had to quickly shift them to another lane to avoid a shredded tire or dead animal that wouldn’t pass under Mirage’s low frame.

A couple cars honked at Mirage when they noticed his lack of headlights, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he ignored them. He didn’t even have _fake_ headlights, as some racecars do.

After about an hour, they had to go through a long tunnel. The sounds of their engines and those of other vehicles echoed in the closed space. Orange lights lined the sides of the ceiling, reflecting off of the white tiled walls. Many of the tiles had broken off, and trash lined the sides of the road. The tunnel gave off a general impression of disrepair that left Huffer itching to run tests on its structural stability. Mirage was content to be able to see properly, until the tunnel ended and he was plunged into darkness once more.

At least before, Mirage could look at things that would keep his mind alert, but now that it was night, there was much less that he could actually see. He tried to focus on staying on Huffer’s tail, but the lack of directional changes and the droning of all the different engines began to lull him into an inattentive state.

His processor was just about to shut off his visual sensors when he saw himself falling behind Huffer and jerked back to wakefulness with a startled burst of static. He carefully maneuvered closer.

“Huffer—“ His voice sounded distorted, so he rebooted his vocalizer. “Huffer, I think I need another distraction to keep me awake.”

Huffer cast his sensors behind him. Mirage’s frame hung low on his axels, but his engine sounded normal. He wasn’t weaving around, but that could change if he let him lose focus again. “Alright. Do you want to talk about anything in particular?”

Mirage let out a sigh. “Not really. Anything’s fine…”

“’Kay. Uh.” Huffer searched his memory banks for something to talk about. “Hey, what do you think of that Skyfire guy?”

“Skyfire?” Mirage repeated. “Well, he seems nice enough. Can’t say I’ve gotten to know him very well. Keeps to himself. Probably doesn’t want to intrude or something, you know? We’ve all known each other a bit longer and even if we don’t _really_ know each other as well as it seems, well. It’d still seem like he was the new bot. Like replacements feel when they’re added to a tight unit, you know?”

“Sure,” Huffer replied. “That and he _literally_ doesn’t fit in. If his head’s not scraping the ceiling, his _wings_ are. He oughtta have a separate hanger or something.”

Mirage hummed. “I’m not sure if he’d like that. It’d be more his size, true, but he might feel even more removed.”

“Maybe,” Huffer conceded. “Ever wanted to fly?”

“ _Fly?_ No. Well, maybe I did if I was falling, but I’ve never felt much appeal for it in general. Have you?”

“Yeah. I’d fly all the way out to Cybertron and kick Shockwave’s skidplate right off the planet.”

Mirage snickered quietly. “I wish you luck with that.”

He hummed absently. “I should change my HUD settings. Red usually works fine, but it’s hard to see when I’m staring at everyone’s taillights. Besides, I’ve gotten tired of it. Maybe pink. There’s not a lot of pink on this planet. I like pink.”

“Mm. What’s your HUD telling you?”

“That I’m low on power. As if I didn’t know that. As if it hasn’t _been telling me that_ for the past—what?—ten, twelve hours?”

“Sounds about right.”

“Ugh.”

The two of them changed lanes to let a big rig pass. Mirage gave it a wide berth so as not to get caught in its strong slipstream.

“This is odd.” Huffer heard Mirage mutter a few minutes later.

“What was that?”

“I think—I’m not sure, but I think my optic feed is lagging.”

“ _That’s_ not good. Wanna test it? I’ll blink my turn signal and tell you when I do, and if the audio and visual don’t match—“

“Confirmed lag. Worth a shot.” Mirage sighed. “Go ahead then.”

“Alright.” Huffer waited a few moments. “Now.” At the same time, his right turn signal lit up.

Mirage groaned. “It’s lagging alright. By almost a full second.”

“That sounds _awful._ ”

“This is just not my night.”

“You tried rebooting your optics?”

“Didn’t make any difference.” Mirage affirmed. “Sweet Cybertron…”

“We’re only an hour away from Prime. Can you make it that far?”

Mirage considered for a minute before answering uncertainly, “Yes.”

“Then be careful.” Huffer advised. “Oh and—behind you.”

“Ah.” Mirage pulled up and to the right, nearly tailgating Huffer as a minivan that hadn’t seen him tried to move into the space he occupied. Huffer flashed his brake lights to warn them off. Confused by the dark shape moving behind Huffer, which was surely much too short to be a normal car, the minivan changed course in favor of following a boxy beater instead. Mirage gradually backed off, returning to where he’d been before.

Huffer hummed. “Maybe Wheeljack could rig you some temporary lights, and you could keep them in subspace.”

“Mm? Oh, Possibly.” Mirage acknowledged. “Hadn’t occurred to me. I’ll have to think about it.”

“’Course they’d probably explode at the worst possible moment, but that’s what you risk when working with Wheeljack.”

Mirage gave a weak chuckle. “He’s not so bad. We see a lot of his worst failures, so we get a skewed perspective. He does a lot of good work.”

“Eh, _sure,_ but the fact that his failures are so _violent_ is kinda _concerning,_ you know?”

“Yeah, okay.” Mirage didn’t really feel up to arguing.

Huffer took the hint. “So, uh, suggestions for keeping you awake?”

Mirage thought for a minute. It took longer than normal; his thoughts had begun to drift and slide around in his processor, not unlike his earlier driving, and it made conversation more difficult when he could barely focus on keeping his wheels straight. Driving itself wouldn’t keep him alert, so something else would have to do. “How about music? Oh, but could you tap in and comm it to me? In this state I’d lose the station and not even notice.”

 _Ugh, Earth music,_ Huffer thought. It was bad enough hearing Blaster play it whenever they shared a shift; he didn’t want to listen to it on his own time. He didn’t have any better ideas though, so he tuned into one of the stronger signals from the local radio stations.

A brief hiss of static preceded the radio host’s voice. “—ank you for listening tonight as we play all the latest hits and your all-time favorite tunes! Next up, George Michael’s _Careless Whisper_ , REO Speedwagon’s _Can’t Fight This Feeling_ , and Pat Benatar’s _We Belong!_ ”

As the first song started with a saxophone solo, Mirage perked up. “This sounds like that stuff Jazz likes!”

Huffer grunted in acknowledgement. As if his taste was any better than Blaster’s.

About halfway through the song, Mirage interrupted. “As nice as this is, it’s a little slow…” He let the statement dangle, but there was an unspoken request at the end. Something more upbeat would be great, but Huffer controlled the music, so…

“Oh.” Huffer responded. He’d caught on. “Makes no difference to me. It all sounds like incomprehensible moaning with other _really_ _weird_ sounds mixed in, so just tell me when you want something different.” He changed the station.

An upbeat new wave song was on, and Huffer subtly boosted the volume. Mirage seemed to enjoy this one a lot more, if his humming was any indication. Huffer wasn’t sure if he knew he could hear him, so he didn’t comment on it.

The next song was met with no complaints from Mirage, but Huffer thought it sounded too repetitive, and too _happy_. “You can’t _walk_ on _sunshine_.” He noted with exasperation. “Hard light maybe, but humans don’t _have_ that kind of tech.”

Mirage ignored him.

The third song on the same station had a similarly bouncy tone. Huffer groaned inwardly, but the refrain caught his attention. “’Wake me up before you go-go?’ Mirage, this one’s _perfect_ for you!” He teased.

“ _Ha, ha.”_ Mirage intoned. “Funny.” He wasn’t at all offended, but he wished Huffer would stop talking in the middle of a song. He had a considerable appreciation for the arts—even alien art—and preferred to listen in relative silence, especially if he didn’t know the tune.

“Oh but wait, I thought you found these _incomprehensible_ , no?” he teased back.

Huffer flicked one of his side mirrors in false irritation, but stopped commenting on the music.

They passed another thirty minutes listening to popular music and switching stations when a slow song or commercial came on.

They were in the middle of a rock ballad that Huffer was sure he’d heard Blaster playing earlier that week when he caught a rhythm that wasn’t part of the song. He turned the music off and turned his attention behind him. “You alright back there?”

Mirage’s response was delayed, and his voice wavered strangely when he spoke. “Not… really.”

“You’re shaking.” Huffer observed. Mirage’s sparse frame was shuddering violently, and something sounded off about his engine. “We should pull over.” As he said it, he made his way gradually to the outside lane.

Mirage followed, but didn’t slow much. “It just started; I can still drive for a bit. We’re not far.” His voice sounded strained.

“Hrm.” Huffer checked their position. They were close to Optimus; the exit was just ahead of them. He could tell Mirage was reaching his limit, but it would be easier to meet up with Prime if they could just get off the highway. “Fine, but stick close and tell me if anything changes.”

Mirage’s steering was tight and jerky as they made the turn, a significant but not entirely welcome change from his loose, inattentive drifting from earlier. Huffer kept a close watch on him as he led him into a small town. Thankfully there weren’t many other vehicles about, and it was easier for Mirage to see now that there were more streetlights.

Mirage’s engine began to sputter only a dozen blocks away from Optimus. He made a small noise of discomfort, and Huffer slowed down before he could explain.

“Huff, ‘m done,” he muttered, defeated.

“That’s why we’re pulling over now. Don’t force it; you’ll fail your fuel pump sooner. Just coast and stop.” Huffer instructed.

The two of them pulled into a small parking lot. Mirage shut off his engine while Huffer idled. He supposed he’d have to comm Prime and ask him to pick them up here. He was just about to do so when Mirage started transforming slowly. “What are you doing!? Stop that! Go back!” Huffer transformed and faced Mirage just as he was finishing. “What are you doing!?” he repeated.

Mirage swayed before steadying himself by placing a hand on Huffer’s hood kibble. “What?” Huffer’s question took a few seconds to process. His optics dimmed and brightened alternately and he found he couldn’t focus them on anything for more than a few seconds at a time. He managed to look off in the direction they’d been travelling and then look back down at Huffer, tilting his head. “’M gonna walk,” he stated, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Huffer had taken Mirage’s hand off his hood but held tightly to his upper arm. He needed the support. The transformation had probably sapped the last of his energy. “Not like that you’re not.” He retorted. “I’m calling Prime and he’s coming here. No arguments.”

“Oh.” It hadn’t occurred to Mirage to do that. “’Mmkay.”

Huffer contacted Optimus, and soon he was pulling into the parking lot.

“Are you two alright?” he asked.

“ _I’m_ fine,” Huffer said. “But _he’s_ kind of…” He shook Mirage’s slouching form gently.

Mirage’s head jerked up and his optics flashed as he tried to focus. “Optimus!” he exclaimed, once he recognized the shape in front of him.

“Done,” Huffer concluded.

“I see. Well, could you help him into the trailer? I’m sure both of you are anxious to get home.”

“Sure thing.” _Home._ Right.

Huffer led Mirage to the open trailer. He was trying to look more alert, but the way he was using Huffer’s hood kibble as an arm rest and leaning rather heavily on it ruined the effect.

He managed to climb in, and lifted an arm to pat the side of the trailer. “’M sorry… inconvenience…” he mumbled sheepishly.

Optimus chuckled. “I told you, don’t worry about it Mirage. I had a nice chat with the gas station attendants anyway.”

“Hm.” Mirage nodded absently, seemingly satisfied with his answer.

Huffer shook his head and huffed. The poor bot wasn’t moving from where he was sitting just inside the trailer; seemed like he still needed help. “Mirage, you can’t stay _there._ Move further back to where Roller is.”

Mirage stared blanky at him for a second before turning to crawl further into the trailer. “Right… Hi Roller.”

The small bot blinked a red light in greeting.

Mirage set himself against the far wall and slumped against it, head lolling and optics dimming. “Good?”

Huffer hesitated at the trailer opening, one hand on the frame. He’d been planning on driving the rest of the way with Prime, but if Mirage was this spacey, he could move around and get himself hurt. He trusted Optimus to take good care of him, but it’d be difficult for him to help while travelling on the highway. “Yeah, that’s better Mirage.” He said.

“Optimus?”

“Yes Huffer?”

“I’d like to stay with Mirage to make _sure_ he’s alright. Do you mind?”

“Not at all Huffer; go right ahead.” It pleased Optimus to see that his Autobots cared for each other, though he doubted Huffer would appreciate his saying so.

With that, Huffer climbed into the trailer and sat next to Mirage. Roller blinked cheerfully at him from Mirage’s other side. “Hey Roller.” He said.

He doubled over from where he sat, trying to get a good look at Mirage’s face. Mirage had leaned down almost to the floor, which made it rather difficult.

Mirage’s optics weren’t quite shut, and a slight glow reflected off the floor and his face. His face was slack, and he looked more tired than he had since he transformed.

“Huffer?” Optimus asked quietly. “Are you both ready?”

“Go ahead.” Huffer affirmed. “I’ll get him situated.”

The trailer door closed and the floor vibrated as Optimus revved his engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Mirage,” Huffer said quietly. “That doesn’t look very comfortable. It’s probably not good for you either. You should lay down, don’t you think?”

Mirage’s head lolled in his direction. “Yeah.” He sat up slowly and deliberately. Once upright, he flashed Huffer a tired smile before shifting around and almost dropping into a horizontal position. His optics shut and his head rolled back. “Better,” he observed. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” Huffer replied. “Say, how’s your engine? Didn’t sound so good.”

Mirage’s brow furrowed. “Hot.”

Huffer leaned closer. “It’s--?”

“Earlier,” Mirage clarified. “’S fine now.”

Huffer leaned back again, nodding. “Well that’s good. You’ll have to have Ratchet check it out later though.”

“Mm-hm.”

They sat in silence for some time as Optimus drove them along.

Huffer pulled his legs in, knees against his torso. “Are you going to sleep or what?” he asked eventually. He could tell he hadn’t powered down yet.

Mirage’s left hand raised to absently trace the Autobot symbol on his chest. It shook slightly, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Tryin,” he mumbled. “’S funny; I was all ready to conk out right there on the highway, but now…” Mirage moved his hand in a vague _I-don’t-know_ gesture while his shoulders remained still.

Huffer thought that Mirage would have just _shut off_ by now, they way he’d been pushing himself all day, but it seemed he couldn’t. “Something keeping you up?”

“I dunno.” Mirage mumbled. He cracked his optics open and glanced blearily at Huffer before staring at the ceiling.

“Hm.” Huffer watched him. “What do you usually do to get to sleep?”

Mirage didn’t reply immediately, but sluggishly moved his arm to cover his optics. He was silent for a moment before his lips curved into a smile. “Listen to music. Older recordings, from before—“ He cut himself off and his smile turned into a grimace.

“Old stuff,” he repeated bitterly.

Huffer leaned backward, relaxing. “Fine then. I’ll sing.”

“Oh no, no.” Mirage immediately uncovered his optics to look at Huffer. It took some effort to speak coherently, evident by his strained tone. “I don’t want to trouble you further; you’ve already been so helpful. I know I’ll fall asleep eventually. I’m fine,” he insisted.

“It’s no trouble!” Huffer said, almost indignantly. “I haven’t sang in over four million years!”

Mirage gave him a slightly dubious look. “Well… If you really want to.”

“I do,” Huffer assured him. “Now shut your optics already.”

Mirage complied, but still looked unsure. He let his arm down to rest beside him.

Huffer made sure Mirage was still before starting in a clear voice. He sang in Cybertronian, which flowed more easily from his vocalizer than English.

He sang an old Cybertronian folk song that had gained popularity before the war, to the point where most people had heard it. Nobody knew who wrote it or sang it first, and as a result it seemed like it had simply always existed. It was a typically upbeat lyrical tune about longing and regret, but Huffer sang it slowly and soulfully.

Mirage had opened his optics wide to stare at Huffer incredulously, but Huffer noticed and irritably smacked his arm without missing a beat. Mirage smiled good-naturedly and shut his optics again.

It was an average-length Cybertronian song, which meant it was _very_ long by human standards. On the second repetition of the main verse, Optimus Prime joined in with a strong bass counterpoint. Roller kept time by blinking his little red light.

Mirage was surprised at how nice the singing sounded in the small space of the trailer. The metal walls gave it a slightly tinny quality that subconsciously reminded him of the halls of Cybertron. He hadn’t thought he was tense before, but he found himself relaxing further at the sound of the familiar tune; Huffer’s piercing tenor from his left, and Optimus’ soft bass from above his head.

By the time the song was a quarter of the way through, the words had begun to blend together in his processor, and the grin had faded from his face in favor of a more tranquil expression.

Huffer continued singing as he leaned down to check on Mirage. He’d finally fallen asleep. He smiled with his optics and settled back again for the rest of the ride.

He and Optimus continued until the end of the song, and then passed the remainder of the trip in companionable silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs Referenced:  
> "Careless Whisper" by George Michael  
> "Can't Fight This Feeling" by REO Speedwagon  
> "We Belong" by Pat Benatar  
> "A View to a Kill" by Duran Duran (the unnamed new wave song that Mirage likes)  
> "Walking On Sunshine" by Katrina & The Waves  
> "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" by Wham!  
> "St Elmo's Fire (Man In Motion)" by John Parr (the rock ballad that Huffer remembered Blaster playing earlier)


End file.
